


never let me go

by tabfics



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Canon Compliant, During Canon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, No Angst, No Smut, POV Multiple, Watford (Simon Snow), Well - Freeform, and baz is like 'oh shit', before wayward son, but i think thats just bc i use a lot of metaphors and he didnt lmao, hes still dumbass though dw, idk simon feels :(, is that the right tag, its midnight or so, no simon and baz angst, simon is a bit ooc, this takes place after simon kills the mage, uhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-31 15:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21448273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tabfics/pseuds/tabfics
Summary: simon defeated the mage, but he didn't save ebb, and he killed the only parental figure he's ever had. he can't get over it, even though nobody expects him to. its only been what, five hours? it's midnight, maybe past that. and simon needs to get out of the clusterfuck of thoughts conglomerated in his mind, he feels swarmed in the discomfort of penelope's home. he stumbles out and finds himself at the gate to Watford, but he isn't alone when he arrives.he decides its much nicer to grieve in the presence of someone else. and the kissing, that's a bonus. and the fact that there's at least one person who will never let him go.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 2
Kudos: 56





	never let me go

**Author's Note:**

> hi this was going to be a submission for a fanzine then i missed the deadline bc im lazy so plz enjoy this i barely edited it and uhhh yeah um i love snowbaz esp vulnerable simon bc we didn't see that often in carry on. also this is totally irrelevant but uh u should send me ur favorite fanart creators my tumblr is @twinkletrucks

**SIMON**

The moon is my only Shepard tonight in this cold, vile darkness. The wind will be my only Grace, though frigid. It reminds me that I'm alive. I'm still alive. 

It's late. Midnight, maybe. I didn't check my clock before I shed my blankets and snuck out Penelope's front door, closing it behind me with only a slight creak. It's late, I can feel the presence of monsters in their prime all around me. It's hell time, it's the time for beasts and behemoths to slither from their cages and light their cigarettes. I keep thinking about the Humdrum. Maybe I'll find him here. This time, I know I would lose. Maybe this time I want to lose. 

I'm lonely, but I don't think I'm alone as I climb this trail I know so well. I feel the creepy crawlies inhabiting around my shoes, I can hear the scatter of a thousand feet like drums as they prance. This is their time, this night is their home—I'm intruding. But they don't mind much. I've always saved them—that's all I ever do. Save others. Nobody to save me. I gave and I gave and I gave, and what I ended up with was a loss of magic. Nobody thought I would ever run out of magic. Hell, I didn't think I would. I feel... naked without it. 

I'm approaching the Watford gates, up a little hill and over. It's quiet—eerily quiet. I don't hear the noises of the nocturnal, I don't hear the bats flap or merwolves splashing in the dam, instead I hear scratching. Not like an animal nor a tree companion, no, like pencil on paper. 

_ Who else is here?  _

I trudge forward into the open field, I can't see much around me. It's pitch black—how the hell is someone writing this late at night? 

I hold my breath and call out, "Hello? Is anyone there?" like in a cheesy horror movie. Though I'm curious. And I don't think I would mind being killed as long as I didn't see the blood.

But those horror movie characters actually have regard for their lives. That's what separates us. I lost mine the day Ebb's life was ended. Everyone else I care about is gone. Ebb is gone. The mage—though I shouldn't have cared about him. But I do. I did. I killed him. 

"Hello?" I ask again, this time louder. The scratching stops, I don't feel alone. But unlike when I was walking up the hill, I don't feel lonely either. 

It's comforting. 

Even if I might be face-to-face in total darkness with an axe murderer. (Half of me hopes I am. It would be so much easier to die now than to suffer these next few weeks of grieving.) 

"Who's there?" I hear a stark voice call from across the field. 

My ears perk and I travel closer to the voice. "What are you doing here? It's midnight!" I pause, because I don't think I'm right. "I think." 

The other person shuffles around, I hear the sound of pages fluttering and the slam of a book, then the click of a pen. "Snow?" I then hear. 

_ Uh oh.  _

"...Baz? Is that you? It's… late," I say, as if I didn't just climb through a forest to get here this late at night. 

I hear him whisper, "It's me." 

_ Fuck _ . 

"What the fuck are you doing out so late, Baz? You should be sleeping!" I say, and run towards his voice, awkwardly finding him by throwing my arms around and punching him on accident. "Sorry." 

"...I should be asking you the same question," he coughs, as if it conjured in his mouth last minute and flew out without a second thought. He almost sounds defensive. 

"I...," I start, but then I stop. I don't want to tell him. 

I miss Ebb, that's okay. But.. I miss the mage. I feel bad for what I did to him. I shouldn't, but I do. 

"I couldn't sleep," I murmur instead, a half lie. I couldn't sleep because the mage got caught in my head and my heart. I needed to get out of that house, it was suffocating me alive. 

"Oh." 

"Yeah," I say. "What are you doing out here?" 

He seems hesitant, he doesn't reply for a few minutes—but that's okay. The moon is bright and beautiful, and even if the stars only faintly peek through the smog and fog up there, it's gorgeous. 

"I was thirsty," he tells me, shame in his voice. "It's peaceful out here, so I stayed." 

I nod. "Sorry for intruding." 

He shrugs, I can feel his shoulder pressed to mine. I like it. It must be some God-destined coincidence that we're both here together, at night, right in front of the schoolyard. Like we were drawn right into each others' traps—and this time we didn't have to chase each other around. 

He sighs, softly, and I hear him lie down with a thump. 

I do the same. 

The sky is nice. The silence is nice. The smell of grass surrounding me is nice, the dew tickling my ears is nice. It's natural, it's nature. Outside. It's beautiful. It's the only solace I have from today's previous events. 

I can hear Baz breathe from beside me, his arm touching mine so softly, it's almost as if he's trying to make it happen. All I can think about is how cold he is, Crowley, he's always so cold. 

I find myself falling into serenity. I feel better...ish. My stomach has settled and I don’t think my mind is going to explode with the thoughts of Ebb and the Mage. Not right now, at least. Not while Baz and I are this close. He’s so close, everyone else is so far away. 

I bite my lip. Everyone I love seems to leave me—for good. 

I wonder if Baz will make it through. 

He sighs. "Why are you really here?" 

It's like he read my mind. 

"I miss Ebb," I respond, truthfully. 

Ebb was wonderful. She was kind, she was caring, she would have given her life if it meant I stayed safe. And that's exactly what she did. I hate that. She was so powerful, but I only learned in her last moments. She was like me. 

"Ebb?" He asks me, innocently enough. I hear him hassle and clutch his notebook tighter—I know it's the leather-bound one with a feather bookmark. He's had it since we were first years. He keeps it in his clothing drawer, he never says anything about it. 

"Ebb," I reply, stupidly, because what else am I supposed to say? Am I supposed to start crying right now? I already did that earlier, my head hurts. I'm out of tears now. I don't want to cry anymore. 

"I'm sorry, Snow," he murmurs, because he doesn't know what else to say. And I get it. I didn't know what to say when I saw her body either. I didn't know I was supposed to break down and cry. I just fought. That's all I've ever known how to do. 

I wrapped it all up in myself, and now her voice is haunting me, asking me,  _ why didn't you save me, Simon? I cared for you, Simon, we were close. You were supposed to save me, you're supposed to save us. This is your fault. _

"It wasn't my fault," I sputter out. 

_ Fuck _ . 

"I-uh," I stammer, feeling extremely stupid. I say, "Um, don't feel sorry." 

I guess her soul must've found its way into my vocal chords too. How fucking great is that! 

"Simon," he takes a deep breath, my heart flutters.  _ Simon _ . He continues, "Simon, none of what happened is your fault. It was bound to happen. You can't save everyone." 

I feel dumb.

"I'm supposed to save everyone. I'm the fucking chosen one, Baz! I could've saved her. I let her just... die." I close my eyes, feeling the same warmth of darkness surround me in my head. "I should've been there sooner. I should have saved her. She would be alive right now if I had gotten there sooner."

My voice cracks, and I feel the watergates flooding again. Fuck. 

"Simon," he murmurs.

He bumps his shoulder into mine, I can't help but shift away. He doesn't need my drama, he doesn't need me. He doesn't want me. 

"Simon, come here." 

My heart drops as he wraps his arms around me, pulling me into him. His hands are so cold, so fucking cold, but I could care less. His arms wrap around me and I feel myself delve deeper into him as he lies my head onto his chest, resting one hand in my hair. 

Everything slows down. I pay close attention to how the wind perforates my skin in screams and howls of air. I shiver, he holds me tighter. 

It's only then my problems seem to shrivel into a bite-sized ball that I swallow down into the pit of my stomach. 

Here I am, Simon Snow, the chosen one, being saved by somebody else.

  
  


**BAZ**

Yes, Simon Snow has his head on my chest and his hands are curled against my stomach and he's crying into my shirt, and his fuzzy hair is brushing my neck so softly and I want to kiss him again. 

I'm so cold, but Crowley, he's so warm. I could stay like this with him forever. 

I wish everything else would just... go away. 

It's quiet between us—but it doesn't need to be loud. There's comfort in our quiet, I guess. I can't stop thinking—but I hope his mind is at peace. I'm sure it is—he doesn't fucking think, ever.

"Baz, why do you have your book with you?" 

I didn't expect him to speak—or at least, ask that.

So I'm left a stuttering mess as I reply, "Oh, um, it was my Mother's. It's... a journal? I guess?" My cheeks light up, I can feel the embarrassment creeping up my spine.  _ Why did I say that _ . 

He lugs his arm over my head and it hits me in the nose as he twists around until his face is to mine, and his lips are right there, so inviting, and he's still on top of me. "Wait, really?" 

I nod, but dumbly realize that he can't see in the dark as well as I can. "Uh, yeah," and then I find myself explaining when I don't need to explain myself to him. "It's... soothing." 

He sighs softly, not for me. "I didn't think you were the journaling type." He stops, takes a little breath. "Cute." 

My heart skips—I freeze. 

"Shut up, Snow." 

The silence between us is content—yet awkward. I'm not good in these situations. Hell, I'm not good in many situations. 

But with the delicate way his comfortable quiet fills the air... I don't need to be good. I don't need to be calm or less erratic—he takes it upon herself to tranquilize his surroundings. For once in his life, he's quiet and calm. And Aleister Crowley, I don't think he realizes the power this has over me. The way the wave of tranquility falls with his curls swaying in the night wind. 

He's just... right there. Calm. Holy fuck, for once, he's calm. And I could just kiss him! Right now, right here. He would probably kiss back, but it wouldn't be violent. It would be soft, calm, content. He's so fucking peaceful, it's scary. 

I can't keep it in. His eyes are looking into mine and I smile. He scoffs, smiles right back, "What are you smiling like that for? You gonna bite me?" 

"Maybe," I whisper, and find myself diving closer until our lips are so close, I can feel his breath fanning on my neck. It's hot. 

Simon sighs and quivers from beside me, and suddenly I feel very real and in the moment. I feel every blow of wind soaring in my body, I feel his body heat pressed to mine (rather lack thereof), and I can't control myself any longer. I pull his head down and press his lips to mine, and he kisses right back. 

When he pulls away (I let him. I would never pull away) he looks at me, and he grins. He's so beautiful. So hot. So amazing. I want to kiss him again. 

"Let's do that more often, yeah?" 

He giggles. A light grin possesses me, but it stops short when he ducks his head down again and kisses me hard, a lot stronger than he just did. I kiss him back, but it's porcelain-delicate compared to the way he does it. Fuck, I love it though. 

He pulls away and sighs, flopping his head onto my chest. I groan. 

"Hey Baz?" 

"Hmm?" 

Simon twitches in my arms. He turns onto his side, so I let him into the grass and leave myself to face him. I can see a very, very thin outline of his face and raggedy hair, but it comforts me to see anything. To know he's really there. This isn't just a mirage, it's fate that we both ended up here at some Godforsaken hour. I don't even know what time it is. Time is a social construct, anyways. 

"I can't stop thinking." 

"About what?" I ask, lightly. He seems tense all of a sudden, I don't want to push him. 

"The mage. Ebb. My magic—gone. These fucking wings!" 

I watch him scratch his head and thump down into the grass, completely unaware of the crawlers that surround him. Maybe he has a truce with them. 

"What about it are you thinking?" 

He squirms a little bit. He moves when he's anxious, I know these signs well. I've watched him enough to know.

"He... he was a bad person, Baz. But I can't stop thinking about it. I killed him... He's gone because of me, Baz. He was... not a father figure, but something like that. He cared about me, I think. I cared about him..." he suddenly trails, but I provoke him to keep talking when I look at him in the eye. It's dark, but the way his eyes widen in the presence of mine is electric. He continues. "I shouldn't care about him, Baz. I should be happy that he's gone, that he can't hurt you anymore. And I'm glad about that. I went insane, basically, when you were gone at the beginning of this year. But I... I can't help but feel bad for killing him." 

The words he said I sucked in and I didn't let go. I held onto everything, every word and every thought. I couldn't imagine what he was going through right now. He was close to both Ebb and the Mage, I know. The Mage was a scumbag, a total ass, but he was the only 'parent' that Simon had. I didn't know what to think. 

"Simon, you're entitled to whatever you're thinking," I say, because what I'm thinking is very different. I can't tell him to 'get over it' as much as I want to. I hate the mage, and he's trying to. 

He's so upset. "Baz, why did this have to happen? Why did I have to be chosen, out of everyone? Why me? Why not someone smart like your or Penelope? Why not someone good at magic? Why me?" 

I shake my head. It's so late. He's so tired, I can tell. He needs to go to bed, so do I. I would love to go back to Bunce's with him, but I know I can't. 

"I don't know, Simon. But you are powerful, and you can't doubt that. You deserve the title." That's only half true, I think he's terrible at being a chosen one. But that isn't what he needs to hear right now. 

He shakes his head. "Why would anyone ever choose me?" 

I bring my hands to his face and cup his cheeks. I make him look at me. "I choose you, Simon. Is that a crime?" 

He zips his lips immediately. 

"Baz...." 

Suddenly, he's so small. I tell him, "I won't let you go." 

I grab his hands and I sit up. 

"We need to go home, Simon. I'll walk you." 

But... he doesn't move. He cries. "I don't want to leave you. I don't want you to leave too." 

He's crying again. For fuck's sake! I don't know how to deal with people when they're crying. I pull him up to stand with me. 

"Maybe Bunce will be kind enough to let me stay the night," I murmur, pulling him along. I start walking down the hill, and he tightens his grip on my hand. 

"She doesn't have to know, Baz." 

I scoff. "She would kill me if she didn't know who was with you tonight. Her mother would kill me, then tell my father. I would rather not have to face that." 

He sniffs. "Please stay with me." 

He's so... vulnerable. I've never seen him like this before. 

"Okay," I say, though I know it's a bad idea. I can't stand him when he's in this state. "I will." 

We walk through the night, hands linked, and I don’t plan to let him go in the near future. I don’t think I’ll ever want to let him go, he’s lost so many people at the hand of his magic. But it doesn’t affect me, and it’s gone now. I’ll never let him go on alone. 


End file.
